


Summer Pornathon 2009 Entries

by kaizoku



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Community: summerpornathon, F/M, M/M, Short, Summer Pornathon 2009, Team Gluttony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaizoku/pseuds/kaizoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My entries from Summer Pornathon Round 1 (2009)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Pornathon 2009 Entries

**Author's Note:**

> If you read only one, I recommend Challenge 5 (food), Challenge 7 (genderbending) or Bonus challenge 1 for the gross-out value.

**CHALLENGE #1: DIALOGUE ONLY**

 _Quality Control_

"You're surprisingly good at this."

"Are you complimenting or insulting me?"

"I just wouldn't have expected it. You're so awkward most of the time, I didn't think you'd be that good in bed."

"Ah. Insulting, then."

"I'm not trying to..."

"Don't worry about it. Most people seem to assume that I'm incompetent."

"But you're not. Okay, yes, you couldn't do a worse job of cleaning my rooms if I paid you--"

"You do pay me."

"And I think your sword-work has actually gotten worse--"

"Not enough, of course."

"But when it really counts, you generally get things mostly right."

"There's a ringing endorsement."

"You're terrible at taking compliments though."

"That what that was?"

"Fine. You're a fucking spectacular lay. Happy?"

"Thanks, Arthur."

"You're welcome."

"Hmm..."

"Well?"

"Uh huh."

"Merlin!"

"What? I'm trying to sleep."

"Am I?"

"Are you what?"

"You know. Am I decent... in bed?"

"Not right now, you're not. You're totally naked."

"What I'm asking is, do you think I'm good at sex?"

"Sure."

"That's it?"

"What do you want me to say -- you're the best I've ever had? You'd just be smug and unbearable."

"So, I _am_ good."

"Didn't say that, did I?"

"So, I'm not."

"Didn't say that either."

"Just tell me, Merlin. I can take it."

"...There's always room for improvement."

"What, seriously?"

"Well."

"Oh, I'm not good enough, that's what you're saying? You -- the mighty Merlin -- think I'm bad in bed. Well, what do I know? I'm just the Prince of Camelot. Not like I have my pick of the kingdom. Not like I had loads of experience before you came along."

"Okay, you know what, I'm just going to go back to my quarters. I'm terrible with sharing a bed -- tendency to hog the covers."

"Of course, seeing as you've shared _so many beds._ "

"Not really that many."

"How many?"

"Why?"

"Merlin. How many?"

"Yours is the second. But I doubt there's room for me in there with you and your ego."

"Oh, for -- come back here."

"No, that's okay."

"Merlin. Wait. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No. You shouldn't."

"Look. Okay. Stop standing there, you look like an idiot with only your shirt on. Come back to bed."

"You're really winning points there."

"Shush. Come here. God, you're cold."

"It's your fault."

"I know."

"You weren't terrible or anything."

"Yeah?"

"No. Just... a bit rough."

"Oh. I thought you liked that."

"I do. Sometimes. It's just -- your belt kept digging into my hip at first--"

"Oh my God, you're such a girl."

"Fine, if you don't want me to tell you--"

"No, no, go on."

"Well, when you were sucking me... your technique could be better."

"How?"

"A bit less rushed. More... detailed."

"Detailed? What do you want me to do, sketch it?"

"No, just, you know..."

"I _don't_ know, apparently."

"Here, let me--"

"What are you--"

"Ow!"

"Oh, my head."

"Sorry! If you hadn't grabbed me--"

"I thought you were leaving again."

"I'm not. I'm demonstrating..."

"Oh. Christ."

"Merlin, actually."

"Bastard."

"So, when I said detail..."

"Uhn."

"It's like... savouring."

"Yes."

"Oh, and this is one of my favourite things."

"Merlin!"

"That's it..."

"Oh, fuck."

"Understand now?"

"Yesss..."

"Great, your turn!"

"I hate you."

"Yeah, I know. So, now? Please?"

"Oh, all right."

"Mmm, I do love when you crush me into the bed."

"What about when I do this?"

"Oh, that's, that's my ear. That's very... wet."

"Are you complaining _again_?"

"No, sorry, sorry! Please proceed."

"You sound like one of my old tutors."

"Should I smack you with a ruler?"

"Pfft, like they would ever have done that to me. My father would've had their heads."

"Okay... leaving that one alone."

"But not leaving _this_ alone..."

"No, that definitely does not need to not be left alone... or rather does need to not be, fuck double negatives..."

"Why don't you fuck my mouth instead?"

"Oh God, that's hot--"

"Eghck--"

"Sorry -- was that too much?"

"No... well, maybe a little."

"I'm too much for you, huh?"

"Shut up. I can take it. Mmmng..."

"Oh shit, yes you can. You're amazing. I never thought otherwise. Oh fuck. Yes, Arthur. Take it. Suck me. Oh yeah, that's it."

"Uhh."

"God, I'm going to come soon if you don't stop."

"Um."

"You stopped."

"Yeah, uh. I don't think I'm quite ready for that."

"Oh. That's okay. Don't worry about it."

"But I can still make you come..."

"Yeah. Wait, um, a little gentler?"

"So demanding."

"Yeah, that's perfect."

"Uh huh."

"I saw you roll your eyes, mister."

"That's 'your highness' to you."

"I'll call you whatever you want when you let me come in your mouth."

"...You're on."

 

 **CHALLENGE #2: FIRST TIMES**

 _The First Five Times_

 _500 words; each part is 100 words. Based loosely on the song "The First Fives Times" by Stars._

First time, out on the battlements, underneath the stars,  
We were so drunk, shit-faced, staring up at faraway points of light,  
And then it started to pour out of nowhere and you had rain in your eyes and the bottle was empty.  
You smelled like hay and soap and dirt at once, how is that even possible?  
I don't even really remember what happened, just kept pushing wet hair out of your face and  
Kissing water into your mouth, and I think we fucked  
And you hurt but didn't cry.  
It was perfect and we never talked about it again.

Next time, it was a feast, anyone who mattered was there,  
Friends and noble guests from semi-foreign lands, smelling of spices,  
And you didn't drink a drop, neither did I let you serve me wine.  
But it didn't matter, you pressed me down behind the stairs and  
It was soft, I don't know how, it should have been stone  
Beneath me and I woke up warm under my sheets and you weren't there.  
The guests were gone and everyone said they were sorcerers,  
That you saved me -- I could still feel your calloused hand on me, could remember it all.

The third time, in the courtyard, light was streaming from you  
And I was scared of you for the first time. We had an audience besides,  
Which scared me more. They would have killed you, Merlin,  
So I stood up on the executioner's block like a madman and explained it so no one could doubt,  
A horrid witch who cursed you that only a kiss from a man could cure,  
And they bought it, even Morgana, even Gwen,  
All but the gnarled tree that was my father.  
And I got you away and kissed you, for real, until you glowed.

Fourth time, god damn it Merlin, I said, get out of here, I'll kill you  
And I regretted not ever hitting you before because blood was everywhere  
Soaked in streaks and clumps, in my hair and on my face, and you would not go would never go and  
I hated you for it, hated you for making me this  
Crown that stands for nothing my father dead my sister gone  
And Gwen crying into vases and this war for nothing fuck you  
Fuck you until the blood's all over you too  
And you brought the rain to wash us clean.

The fifth time, the first time in your bedroom, the bed  
So small I don't know how you fit for all those years or  
How we fit together but you drove into me, and broke me open and once more changed me.  
It's been so long since that first time, I've never asked if you remember.  
Now finally our sad sharp bones rest together. Arthur, you said and stopped  
And kissed me and I grasped your wrist, your lips,  
I know, I said. I feel the same. We can never stop kissing, you and I,  
We keep going on forever.

 

 **CHALLENGE #3: ALTERNATE UNIVERSE**

It's gone 1 o'clock when the band gets done. Arthur downs half his jug of water before he notices the dark-haired girl lounging against the wall, watching him. She looks like any of the other birds in the joint - short pleated skirt and bobbed hair. A regular flapper.

"Hey doll, show's over," he says, still hoarse from playing.

Her eyes narrow. "Who says I'm waitin' for you, anyway?"

Her voice is lower than he expected, quite pleasant actually; her tone is anything but.

"Who else?" Arthur says, rolling his eyes. It's not arrogance if it's true.

"Think you're a big cheese, huh? Just 'cause you're some hotshot horn-player."

"Woo-eee! A real bearcat," Joey, the drummer, would say.

A real pain in the arse, more like it.

"Wasn't my intention to offend," Arthur says, grabbing his case and heading for the door.

"Wait a min," the girl calls, snagging his arm. She's taller than him in her heels. "You a limey?"

"I'm from Britain, yes."

"Gawd, you're so right and proper! The queen keeping tabs on you or something?" she teases.

Arthur pretends to sneak a glance over his shoulder.

"I don't think she's watching," he whispers.

The girl cracks up. Her laugh is infectious, her grin wide and unfeigned. Her eyes are blue shot through with gold.

Arthur's done for.

 

Despite his early shift, Arthur winds up dancing with the young woman - Merle, she says her name is.

For some reason, Merle keeps trying to lead and getting them tangled up, pressed against each other for a few seconds until they pull away laughing, and he spins her around again. Merle has this sparkle in her eyes that, even though Arthur knows she's younger than him, makes him feel almost out of his depth. Which is crazy, because Arthur is never out of his depth.

Arthur finds out that Merle's in college studying math, her mother is Irish and works in a laundry, she shares a flat with a girl named Gwen, and she loves jazz and goes dancing every night she can afford it. Arthur means not to say anything but tells her that he never knew his mother and that his father approves of him living in New York but wouldn't if he knew Arthur spends all his time playing trumpet. He buys her a Strawberry Daiquiri and makes a face when she forces him to try it. The recorded music is just okay compared to his band, but it's lively and loud, and the place is still hopping even though it's almost - Arthur checks his watch - almost 3 a.m.!

"I have to split," Arthur says regretfully.

"No, Arthuuur. Don't go!" Merle puts her arms around his neck and swings like Arthur's her personal jungle gym.

"I have to get home."

"Fine." She pauses, licking her lips. "I could give you a ride."

"A ride?"

"Yeah, I've got a motorcycle. Well, it's my friend Will's, but he lets me borrow it."

"I think you've had a bit much to be driving."

"I haven't," she leans in close and whispers in his ear. "I only drink virgins."

Arthur swallows.

 

Merle hitches her skirt halfway up her thighs and swings one long, gorgeous leg over the bike. Talk about gams, Arthur thinks. He gets on behind her.

Then Arthur's backed up against the door to his building with her tongue in his mouth and his brain somewhere south of its usual home. American girls are different, Arthur's always heard. Well, maybe, but Merle definitely is. Arthur's only necked like this with birds he's taken out on more than five dates. It's a change of pace. Not that he's complaining, mind you.

"Hold on," Merle says suddenly, pulling back.

He doesn't groan. "What's wrong?"

"I have to tell you something."

"Okay."

"I'm not what you think I am."

"I don't care," Arthur says.

"I'm a boy."

"No, you're not."

Merle grabs his hand and puts it on her breast. Arthur stops breathing.

She's pretty flat but he actually likes that. He circles the nipple with his thumb.

"I'm not joking."

"You're a boy," Arthur says.

"Yeah."

He thinks about it. The curve of Merle's jaw, her voice, her tongue in his mouth.

 _His_ tongue in his mouth.

His hand doesn't stop. It goes lower.

Then he's got a double armful of beautiful boy in a dress and the hemline keeps rising until Arthur can get his hand underneath to feel slick-hot-hard skin and slide his thumb over the head and be surprised to not feel surprise, only awe.

 

 **CHALLENGE #4: FLUFF**

In August, a pot of roses appears by Arthur's window.

He catches Merlin tending to it three days later, but doesn't mock him.

The buds, small and tight, make him think of tiny fists.

~

"I want to go home," Merlin says, as he takes off Arthur's vambraces, and Arthur's heart skips and then sinks.

"Fine," he says tonelessly.

"My mother--" Merlin starts.

"Of course," Arthur says. He can't control Merlin, can't keep him here if he wants to go. He pushes Merlin's fingers away, and yanks at the clasp himself, cursing when it resists him.

"It'll only be a couple days."

Merlin's grateful look is annoyingly pathetic. Arthur takes a deep breath.

"Come on, Merlin. Look how high the sun is. You should have left hours ago, you idiot. Let's go get you a horse."

~

There's a feast the next night.

His perpetually clumsy manservant isn't there to accidently dump wine all down his front when his father motions him to dance with a visiting noblewoman of advanced years. Morgana laughs at him, then points out a lace Arthur left undone when he dressed.

Arthur vows to find a temporary replacement as soon as possible.

~

Arthur fires the temporary replacement after two hours (including the hour and forty minutes he sent the servant to clean the stables.) Then he forgets that no one's bringing him dinner and goes to bed without eating.

~

The rose blossoms on the third day. The fine, heavy scent makes Arthur slightly nauseous. It disturbs his meals and follows him into sleep.

Just like Merlin to leave something behind to stink up the place. He should throw the pot out, give it to Guinevere or something.

~

"Is Merlin still away then?" Morgana rides up alongside him. She somehow convinced his father to let her hunt with them today.

"He's visiting his mother."

"For a whole week? That seems rather long. Is she well?"

"I don't know, Morgana. I'm not there," Arthur grits out.

~

The rose is in full bloom.

~

The next morning, Arthur looks out the window and sees dark hair and a red kerchief. He stops mid-sentence, and sprints out of the room, leaving Uther gaping.

"Merlin!" He shouts, once he gets to the courtyard. "You're back! God, I actually missed you, you brainless id--"

The girl - it's a _girl_ for Christ's sake - stops and looks at him like he's a lunatic. The kerchief is holding back her long hair.

"Sorry," Arthur says. "Thought you were someone--" His throat is suddenly tight and he whirls away.

~

Arthur doubles the number of practice hours. He has nothing else to do, why should anyone else? They can use the training. Even at practice he's bored out of his mind.

He's confused Sir Bors into trying a fleche, when he feels oddly out of breath, and then a wave of black crosses his vision.

 

"Your highness!" He hears and then someone's saying "God, I almost ran him through!"

Gaius berates him and stands over him until he eats and drinks everything (in the castle, it feels like.) In the middle of the night, he gets up and vomits.

~

Arthur's lost track of the days. A fortnight? It seems like months so it's probably been weeks. He should have gone to Merlin, to Ealdor, to wherever he is. Should have followed him to the ends of the earth.

Every petal on the rose has fallen except one. It looks delicate, barely hanging on.

Arthur's sick of waiting. A slow shudder of anger courses through him and he reaches out, to rip it off. He pricks himself.

It doesn't hurt but he watches the drop well out, become drops, scarlet notes, and then he's hit with dizziness and doesn't remember falling down.

~

"Arthur," he hears someone gasp.

"Oh, Arthur, no. I'm-- God. Please don't be dead."

There's a hand on his wrist briefly, someone close. Someone who smells like horses and pine and sparks.

"Please, please," Merlin begs. His voice sounds ripped to shreds and Arthur thinks, what's wrong? But it's distant. He feels... drifty, not all there.

"Arthur," Merlin says again. "I -- oh God. I don't know what I'll do if you die. You can't, okay?" His voice cracks and Arthur slowly realizes that he's crying. "You can't because I love you. I love you so much. You're the whole reason I'm here, that I came back, God, you're probably even the reason I'm a sorceror. You're everything."

There's something wet on his face.

He opens his eyes.

 

 **CHALLENGE #5: FOOD**

Arthur has salad dressing dripping into his eyes and sundry vegetable matter spattered across his once-white shirt. Most of the pot roast went on Merlin, but there’s a few streaks on Arthur’s trousers. He has Merlin pinned face-down. He’s stopped struggling and lies quiescent, almost sprawled on the floor under Arthur’s tense weight.

“Do you give?”

“Yeah,” Merlin says seriously.

“You promise not to throw any more food products?”

“Promise,” Merlin says, then ruins the effect by crowing, “Your face! When I threw my salad at you!” His body vibrates with suppressed laughter.

“Shut up,” Arthur says and then spots a glass on the table beside him. He grabs it and pours the ice-cold water over Merlin’s neck.

“Oh, you bitch!” Merlin yells, bucking like mad. “I’ll get you!”

Arthur runs for the kitchen. He happens to know that Merlin has a pie in the fridge.

Later, when they’re lying in a messy, exhausted pile on the floor, Merlin says “run a bath, will you.”

“No, you,” Arthur says.

“Oh, that’s mature,” Merlin laughs.

“You started it.”

“And you ended it,” Merlin counters, rolling onto his back. “With peanut butter.” He shudders. Merlin, unaccountably, hates peanut butter. Arthur licks some off his chin, then moves on to his ear. There’s a bit of chocolate there. He tries to sneak a kiss but Merlin makes a “blech” noise and pulls away.

“Run bath now?” Merlin says piteously. “Please?”

“Fine.” Arthur gives in. Possibly he feels a guilty about the sauce in Merlin’s eye. Though it was an _accident_.

Merlin wanders in and slaps Arthur’s arse while he’s bent over adjusting the water temperature, and then giggles. He has a joint between two fingers. Merlin is a dreamer and also one of those people who will laugh at anything, so of course his drug of choice is marijuana, which just intensifies his natural traits.

“We should shower first,” Arthur says. “Get the muck off.”

“Yeah, all right,” Merlin says. Arthur leans over and takes a drag while Merlin holds the cigarette, feeling the smoke hit the back of his throat. He never smoked in university (not after the lectures his father gave him) but that’s what living with a dealer will do for you. Not that Merlin is _really_ a drug dealer. He just sort of sits around on his sofa and gives people pot and then they give him money. “It’s mutual aid,” Merlin likes to say.

Under the hot water, Arthur shampoos Merlin’s hair for him and Merlin moans, enjoying the scalp massage, and then they switch places. Arthur drapes himself against Merlin’s back in hopes of soaking up some warmth. It’s a fairly large tub but the stream of water doesn’t cover much. He runs his hands over Merlin’s slick skin, over his hips and down to the wet nest of dark hair and his half-hard cock. Arthur hooks his head over Merlin’s shoulder and watches his hands working, pumping the shaft. The head looks a little red.

“Did you jack off today?” Arthur asks casually.

Merlin gasps at a particularly tight stroke. “Yes.”

“Thought I told you I had plans,” Arthur says, a bit annoyed. Of course, his romantic dinner didn’t quite go to plan. Not that he expected it to. It’s them. Spontaneity is practically a keyword. Arthur may be a businessman and work a 9-to-5 job but he likes excitement. He likes surprises. And Merlin is the biggest surprise he’s had yet.

After they’re clean, Arthur fills up the bath and they settle in, Merlin leaning back against him. Arthur plucks at Merlin’s nipples, bites at his neck, getting him worked up. Merlin’s head rolls back against his shoulder, a slow stream of moans pouring from his throat.

Arthur opens his legs, forcing Merlin’s thighs apart for his hand to reach down and behind, into the cleft, tracing it lightly and then pushing in. Merlin swallows convulsively and tries to spread his legs wider. Arthur goes slow, just one fingertip, because water isn’t really that good a lubricant, but he can already feel Merlin pressing down, opening for him.

He fucks him like that for a while, one finger, letting Merlin clench and squirm on it. When his hand starts to cramp, he adds another finger, wanting to hurry, to get his dick in that tight space, and wanting to slow at the same time just to feel Merlin trying to get more and hear him whine high in his throat when he can’t.

“Wait,” Merlin says suddenly. “I forgot something.”

He jumps out of the bath, splashing water everywhere.

Thirty seconds later, Merlin’s back, carrying strawberries and champagne that Arthur didn’t even know he’d bought.

Arthur gapes.

“I thought, um, they’d be... romantic?” Merlin looks oddly shy.

Arthur stands up, water pouring off him, and takes the items out of Merlin’s hands. He sets them down and then pulls Merlin into a long kiss that quickly gets mucher wetter.

 

 **CHALLENGE #6: INTERPRETATIVE DANCE**

"WELCOME, ladies and gentlemen, to MIND YOUR BACKSIDES, the show where dancing fools go BUTT TO BUTT to show off their skills! I'm your host, Uther Pendragon, and have we got a great show for you today...”

“I can’t do this,” Merlin whispered back-stage.

“You can and you will,” Gaius said. “You’re my star pupil, if you think you can back out now...”

“Aaaand let’s all welcome back last year’s champion, the dashing and flexible warrior of dance, and my own son... Arthur Pendragon!”

The crowd went wild with cheering and clapping as the red and gold spandex-clad man strode onstage.

“Ughh,” Merlin groaned, watching Arthur execute a series of flawless leaps and flips. “I _hate_ him.”

“Remember, Merlin,” Gaius said. “Channel your emotions into the dancing! You have to keep it secret!”

“Keep what secret?” Merlin hissed. “I think everyone knows how I feel about Arthur!”

“Well, yes, everyone here _has_ figured it out. That’s one of the reasons Uther wanted you back. He thinks you and Arthur heighten the tension. It’s good for ratings.”

Merlin groaned.

“AND NOW, let’s introduce our guest star, MERLIN EMRYS, who hopes today to BEAT ARTHUR AT HIS OWN GAME, TO SHOW HIM UP, TO GET TO THE _BOTTOM_ OF HIS...” Arthur tapped his father’s arm. Uther cleared his throat. “Yes, indeed. Merlin, ladies and gentlemen.”

Merlin entered not walking but flying, a blur of silver and blue on a trapeze, from which he flipped, spun, and rolled to finally land in a split, drawing appreciative hoots and whistles from the studio audience. Somehow through all his moves, his feathered hat stayed on his head. Arthur clapped politely, looking unimpressed.

“AND NOW,” Uther proclaimed, “The moment you’ve all been waiting for. Let’s find out what type of dance our two brave contestants will be performing. Merlin, please SPIN THE WAND... INTERPRETATIVE DANCE. MERLIN, A STUNNING CHOICE.” Merlin opened his mouth but Uther plowed on, “HOW WILL OUR TWO HEROES FARE? WHO WILL BE BETTER TO TRANSLATE, THROUGH THE POWERFUL MEDIUM OF DANCE, THEIR EMOTIONS? LET’S FIND OUT... AFTER THESE MESSAGES.”

Merlin and Arthur looked equally annoyed as they flipped, shimmied and twirled their separate ways off-stage.

“Aaand you’re back — with MIND YOUR BACKSIDES. Today two talented dancer are going to perform interpretative dance for you. Now, Merlin, if you would give your best rendition of,” Uther leaned over and whispered something into Merlin’s ear.

The lights went down and a singe spotlight focused on Merlin. His dance was quick and bold, but it was his eyes that really conveyed the emotion. The audience reacted favorably, but Merlin thought he could ramp it up even more. He snaked towards Arthur, who stood unmoving. Merlin’s whole body expressed his simultaneous desire for and dislike of the chosen object.

The lights came back up. Uther turned to the audience.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, it is up to you to decide. What was Merlin showing us? You’ll find a keypad next to your seat. Please choose which emotion you think is closest to what Merlin portrayed. Viewers, if you’d like to vote, here is the number to call in.”

“Jealousy” was the viewers’ choice. Then Merlin got avarice, love, and schadenfreude, while Arthur had surprise, happiness, confusion, and sorrow. By the end, “wrath” came through as Merlin was attempting “awkwardness,” losing him several points.

“NOW we will continue on to the bonus round where each contestant try to OUTDO EACH OTHER... AND ARTHUR JUST DID A FLYING LEAP-KICK OVER MERLIN’S HEAD. I THINK WE ALL KNOW WHAT THAT SAYS, HUH? NOW MERLIN IS... MERLIN HAS... _ATTACHED_ HIMSELF TO ARTHUR. INTERESTING STRATEGY.”

Merlin and Arthur were now twisting against each other, each trying to physically dominate the other.

“Perhaps we should call in an expert.” Uther said after a minute. “I’d like to welcome, Dr. Gaius 'the Undulator' Glottis to the show. Gaius is an expert on interpretative dance, isn’t that right, Gaius?”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say I’m an _expert_ , Uther.” Gaius responded. “But I did beat you back in ‘79.”

Uther laughed, “Ah, yes, I’d quite forgotten.”

“So, what do you see going on here, Gaius?”

“Well, the movement of the hips - my specialty - often indicates an earthy, base type of emotion. The bared teeth show their desperation in attempting to communicate with each other and the audience. The way that the contestants are rolling around on the ground shows that they are cooperating, at least to some extent. This may be a situation where, as they say, it takes two to tango...”

 **CHALLENGE 7: GENDERBENDING**

They don't come at anything like the same moment. Arthur grunts and pushes Merlin's hand against her cock, demands that he stay hard long enough for her to come. "Come on, come on," she groans and tangles her fingers in his hair, spiking pain through his scalp. When he gets a good rhythm going with his hand, when he nudges the spot inside her with his softening prick, she sucks hard on his tongue and comes. Merlin pulls out, hand sticky, feeling sore and well-used, even though Arthur was the one getting fucked. Arthur is sweaty, still half-hard, long strong legs and arms splayed, and Merlin wants to roll on his side and look, but he stays still, staring up at the ceiling.

They've tried it the other way but Merlin just doesn't get hard for breasts, for rounded hips and soft, wet pussy. It's Arthur's hard muscles and hard prick that make him pant after her. He can't help it — just as Arthur can't help that she's a girl, no matter the body that Merlin puts her in. In all honesty, Merlin would never know, she's as rough and obnoxious and arrogant now as the day she twisted Merlin's arm up behind him and dropped him to his knees, all shining hair and mail and glinting blue eyes. If Arthur hadn't said, he might have gone on forever, on his knees, sucking cock. Fucking loving it.

He doesn't mind giving her head when she's got a cunt. It doesn't turn him on, exactly, but it does not disgust him. And it's satisfying to watch her tremble and give way to the pleasure, even if her moans are a little too high, more cry than shout. Merlin wishes it did — he wants to love Arthur the same however altered he finds her. He's still looking for a spell that will let him. Merlin thinks sometimes that Arthur would be better off with someone else, someone better able to appreciate her maidenly charms, as it were. Gwen, perhaps. Lancelot, if he ever found out. Of course, Arthur may prefer to wear the body of Aphrodite over that of Achilles, but she'll never give up the kingship and, even in these enlightened times, it requires the garb of a man to don the crown. Only when they are alone in the dark, bedroom or deepest woods, does Arthur ask him.

Arthur grew up in Uther's castle, Uther's shadow, Uther's son. She doesn't ask for magic easily. She doesn't ask, in fact. She simply turns to him and says, "Do it now." And he does. He wonders sometimes if he didn't, if he couldn't, if he would be dead.

There are cracks here.

But he doesn't care. Not about the Gwens, the Lancelots, the Morganas. Not if this is the compromise they both make. Not any of it. Because he needs her, as insane and weary as it makes them both. And Merlin is much too selfish to give Arthur up.

 

 **BONUS CHALLENGE #1**

 _Belly of the Beast_

"We must be united, the three of us. It is the only way."

"Are you sure?" Merlin asked.

"Of course, young warlock. It is for your own good."

"Merlin, you're not really considering--"

"We have to, Arthur."

"Walking straight into a dragon's mouth? Doesn't that seem like, oh, insanity to you?"

The pounding and shouting from above grew louder.

"Arthur, we don't have time for this. Listen, he's not going to eat us, he wants you to be king."

"He w--"

The Dragon leaned down and opened its huge mouth to them. Jagged teeth as high as their thighs guarded the dark entrance. A rush of warm, humid but not-unpleasant-smelling air washed over them...

"Juth thlide down mah tongue," the Dragon said, extending the long purple appendage.

"Oh GOD," Arthur said, edging backwards.

"Down here!" Someone yelled from the tunnel, followed by more shouts and thundering footsteps.

"Now or never," Merlin gulped, and grabbing Arthur's hand, climbed onto the Dragon's slick member and slithered down the tight wet channel.

 

Inside its throat, the Dragon's voice reverberated and resonated strangely -- and loudly.

"Two paths lie before you, one of acid and one of fire. Make your choice wisely, Merlin."

"I thought you said we'd be safe in here!" Merlin shouted back.

There was no answer. Apparently the acoustics weren't that great for human voices. And it was totally dark. He only knew where Arthur was because their sides kept rubbing together as they crawled through the slimy passage. At first they had easily slipped in, but now the passage was starting to rise, making it hard to get deeper.

"Arthur? You're being awfully quiet."

"I was just thinking about how I wish I could have died like a man, instead of being slowly digested or burned alive."

Merlin winced. "We're not going to die. I'll think of something."

"Really. Well, when you do--"

"Wait. Did you feel that? That tremor?"

"Yes."

Suddenly the passage was closing in around them. They were squeezed together violently and then pushed forward through the tube on a wave of mucus. Arthur's elbow was practically embedded in Merlin's stomach when the channel relaxed again, and they were both sticky.

"Oh God, he's swallowing," Merlin moaned.

"Hey, there's a space here," Arthur shouted suddenly. "Quick, get in, before the next one!"

It was a small recess, about six feet long, that Arthur had put his foot in accidentally. They wedged themselves into it just before the Dragon's esophagus tightened again. The constriction was less intense here, but they were still pressed together relentlessly.

And then the swallows kept coming, one after another.

Arthur and Merlin were thigh to thigh, chest to chest, their clothes soggy and damp, being continually smooshed against each other. There was no way it wasn't going to happen.

"The Dragon, he, uh... he must feel like we're stuck in his throat or something," Merlin said. He could feel Arthur's erection digging into his hip and his own felt like it was pulsing.

"Yeah." Arthur's breath hitched. "Stupid bugger could have got us killed though."

"This might not have been my best plan," Merlin admitted, after the next contraction had him panting into Arthur's ear, trying not to come.

"Not... really," Arthur said, sounding strangled.

"Kiss me," Merlin gritted out, as they surged together, the Dragon's rhythmic paroxysms augmenting their own shudders and spasms.

It got less fun after that.

"Ugh, I'm sticky. Also, you're standing on my foot."

"Sorry. I need to move my arm."

And then the Dragon swallowed again.

"Ow! Fuck!"

"Bloody hell, will you STOP SWALLOWING!" Arthur yelled.

"I don't think he can hear you, seeing as we're down his throat."

 

It was pure dumb luck that they found it.

Arthur shifted and... "Are you hard again already?" Merlin asked.

"What? No!"

"Well, something's digging into me."

"Oh. That's my hair remover."

"...Your what?"

"I don't like body hair. It's gross."

"And you call me a girl."

"Merlin, if you say--"

"Wait, shut up! I just remembered something! Stomach acidity! That's it!"

"What is what?"

"We need to counteract the acid with a base. Gaius was telling me about this. And hair remover is a base, I'm pretty sure."

"Pretty sure?"

 

And that was how, with the help of a "bottle never empty" spell and Arthur's hair remover, they went swimming in the Great Dragon's stomach.

(They fucked in there too, of course. They figured the Dragon wouldn't mind some extra protein.)

 

 **BONUS CHALLENGE #2**

"I don't know if I can do this," Merlin said, because okay he'd had those fantasies, hadn't everyone? But this was - was - he was in way over his head.

"Sure you can," Arthur said and he was lithe - that was the only word for it - sliding onto Merlin's lap like an eel or something, only with broad shoulders and strong thighs that closed around Merlin's own. "Just follow my lead."

"I thought the point - " Tongue, there was tongue in his ear. "The point was - " and teeth. Nibbling. Uhm. What was he saying? Oh yes. "I thought that point was that you follow my lead." He realized he was gripping Arthur's upper arms, and pushed him back a little to get some breathing room.

"So lead me," Arthur whispered, surging up against him and putting his hot mouth back to use on Merlin's neck, licking and ahhh, ticklish! Merlin's head snapped back and thunked against the wall and then Arthur was cradling his head in one hand and kissing him, and the other hand was unbuttoning his shirt -

"Wait!" Merlin gasped.

"What now?" Arthur sighed.

Merlin glared at him. "You're not very servile, you know that?"

"Yeah? You're not very masterly!"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you!"

"Shut up and tell me to do something," Arthur growled.

Merlin would have objected to how little sense that made, but the way his stomach had just flipped over distracted him.

"Fine. I will."

Arthur looked pleased. His fingers danced up Merlin's chest and then toyed with a button.

"Um," Merlin said.

Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"Strip!" Merlin said desperately and rather louder than he'd meant to.

A shirt whipped by, almost hitting Merlin in the face, and flew off somewhere. Merlin grabbed Arthur's wrists.

"Slower."

Arthur growled but complied, sliding off his lap as silkily as he'd landed in it, and shimmying his tight jeans off. Merlin gulped. There were a lot of muscles and chest hair - which somehow looked both soft and bristly at the same time - and it all sort of arrowed down into sleek hips and white briefs that Merlin felt he really ought to ridicule, but... he didn't.

Instead he said, "Come here" and Arthur came and Merlin peeled them off, getting onto his knees to do it. Arthur was gorgeous and hard and it was all for him - no, it was his, all of him, to do with what he wanted, which was suddenly no longer a terrifying thought but a unbelievably hot one.

"Do you want me to--" Merlin started to say, but then remembered himself and pushed Arthur back, enjoying his startled exhale when he hit the wall. He was a little taller than Arthur, which worked to his advantage. He ran his hand over Arthur's jaw, through his hair, let his thumb linger on his lips. Arthur closed his eyes and some fine thread of tension Melrin hadn't identified until then seemed to ease in him. And then those sky blue eyes opened again and Arthur reached out and pulled him in.

There wasn't anything obviously submissive about his kissing - he kissed like any of the guys Merlin had kissed before, maybe more aggressive even, but when Merlin pushed his tongue into Arthur's mouth, he sucked on it and whimpered unabashedly. He liked it when Merlin grabbed his head, when he pulled his hair, when he fucked his mouth.

He didn't like being bit, so Merlin held him in place with a hand against his throat and bit at Arthur's lips until he stopped struggling. When he pulled back, Arthur looked dazed, his pupils dilated.

"Merlin," he murmured.


End file.
